


Little Talks

by PinkHydrangea



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: 20s au, F/M, Gen, Multi, Raijinshuu - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-27
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-04-23 17:28:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4885483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkHydrangea/pseuds/PinkHydrangea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>20s au in New York city-style Magnolia, centered mostly on the Raijinshuu:<br/>As bootleggers for the infamous speakeasy Fairy Tail, the Raijinshuu are consistently in danger, but with the return of the infamous Tartaros, everyone is dragged in and skeletons are pulled out of the closet. - elfever and other ships included</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. fairy tail

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Little Talks is my current big project! I love 20s aus, and I love the Raijinshuu and ElfEver, so this just happened... Please enjoy!

Waking up in the morning is just flat-out bad. It's awful. Horrendous. Whoever it was that rang the work buzzer signaling for the morning shift of a nearby factory to start nearby was committing an awful sin to everyone still asleep.

The city of Magnolia was waking up, however, and so was a disgruntled young woman. She groaned and pulled the sheets over her head as clamor started to rise up from the streets to her window. Footsteps from outside her room's door indicated that other people in the quarters were waking up and making their way towards the bathroom or the bar downstairs or wherever their usual morning stop was. The girls giggled and men grumbled, sounds much too distracting for her to remain asleep.

With a hefty sigh she sat straight up in the bed, blankets floating up and falling back down as she did so. An enormous yawn pried her mouth open and she ran a hand through her hair that stuck straight up in the back. Another yawn came and she stretched out her legs and swung them out of the bed. The sun, newly hung in the sky, and the early-morning energy of the Magnolia inhabitants greeted her. Windows were opening and workers, small as ants from her floor, were running through the streets in fear of being late for work.

The young woman stuck out her tongue slightly and yanked strands of unruly brunette hair from her mouth. She stepped towards the window and swung the flower curtains closed and put her hands on her hips, relishing in the darker room. The sun was too cheerfully yellow for her.

"It's too damn early for this."

* * *

"Morning, Evergreen!"

"Guf'mournin'," she mumbled around her toothbrush as she walked down the stairs.

Lisanna was serving breakfast to those few in the bar. Some of them were prepped for the day, others were, like herself, still in pajamas and coats and had hair flying everywhere. Fairy Tail was simply an environment where nobody judged you early in the morning. Early in the morning was free game and you could look and act almost however you wanted. All would be forgotten by noon at the very latest.

"Would you like some?" Mirajane asked politely, offering her a plate of fried eggs and toast as she walked by.

Evergreen took it with a small sound of thanks, eyes still mostly closed and toothbrush hanging limply from the corner of her mouth. The seat next to Cana was empty and she plopped down there, pulling the toothbrush from her mouth and setting it aside. She had barely picked up her fork when Cana swiveled on the barstool to face her, with a cheek in her hand and wolf-grin on her face.

"Wh's up Alberona?" she grumbled.

Beads of water showered her face and she blinked, turning to see Cana flicking droplets from her glass towards her. She glared and put down her fork, more awake now, and pressed a napkin to her lips politely. Cana crossed her legs, baring a dangerous amount of leg in her colorful dress, and she ceased showering the fellow brunette with water.

"Mornin' bearcat!" she said, leaning back on the stool. "We got some business to talk about. Go on, put on your business face. … Yeah, that's the one!"

"This is what my face always looks like, Cana."

"That's because you've got a business sort-of face! That's what I like about ya!" She leaned forward and stool the crust off of one of Ever's pieces of toast. "Hear you got a big load to pick up today, eh?"

"Correct," she said, neatly placing egg on a piece of toast. "We're running low and our next self-made batch of bootleg isn't gonna be done for another week or two. Master wants the four of us to go pick up some booze. Unfortunately, it's… from a questionable supplier."

"Ain't any pickup gonna be from a shady group? I mean, they're illegally selling the booze, so that in-and-of itself is just shady, ain't it?"

"I mean 'questionable' as in 'violent.' If things don't go as properly planned, we probably aren't getting out without a few cuts and bruises."

Cana winced and waited for Ever to down a glass of juice. More people were streaming in, those who were fresh and ready for the day after freshening up. Levy and Natsu were talking excitedly about something while they waited in line for the Strauss Breakfast Special. Erza was, of course, letting everyone go in front of her like the well-mannered woman she was, and Gajeel and Gray seemed to be on the brink of an argument.

Peace was just not going to last for long once an argument broke out.

"I got a favor to ask of you."

Any favor asked by the notorious drinker Cana Alberona had to do with alcohol most certainly. It was always about getting a few personal bottles that she didn't have to share the with fatcats and other customers coming in for a drink. Cana slid a substantial amount of jewel bills across the bar towards her.

"I really need a couple bottles of the nicest wine they got, if they do have it." Cana had lowered her voice to something barely over a whisper. "If this ain't enough, could you pay for the rest? I swear I'll pay ya back soon as I got the funds. Tonights gonna be a big night here at the speakeasy so I'm sure to get some tips!"

"Why the wine?" Evergreen asked. She slid the jewel over by her toothbrush. "All you usually want is the same-old-same-old scotch."

"Well…"

An uncharacteristic blush stained her cheeks and she glanced away briefly. Ever then remembered that within the next couple of days probably, it would be Cana and Mira's three month anniversary. Three months wasn't that long, in her own opinion, but given how Mirajane had been chattering on cheerfully about it for the past week, it wasn't a surprise that Cana felt obligated to do something nice.

"Elfman and Lisanna promised to make us up a nice dinner, but I wanted to get some real nice drinks, y'know?" Cana whispered. "It's gonna be a surprise, so don't let slip nothin'. We got ourselves a deal, bearcat?"

"Fine, fine. I'm sure it'll be the cat's meow, Cana."

An even larger grin burst out over the young woman's face and her hand landed directly on top of Ever's head and began to ruffle her hair. "You're so cute, doll! I just knew you were a secret romantic at heart, stickin' your neck out for me so I can get my girl somethin' nice!"

"C-Cana, stop! This is a public place and I refused to be degraded like this!"

"Oi."

A large figure loomed over them and Cana released her with a fake groan of irritation. Laxus Dreyar took Ever a long, lingering look before turning to the colorful woman who was giggling merrily behind a hand. Freed and Bickslow flanked him in the back, Freed serious as usual and Bickslow leaning back and cracking jokes to Natsu at the table close behind him.

"I'd appreciate it if you left my team alone," Laxus said. "You're making her look soft and cuddly by rufflin' her like that."

"I'll leave the doll alone, tough guy. But you can't say she ain't soft and cuddly already. I mean, look at this face!"

Ever's face was captured between Cana's fingers and squished, merely a prop for her to poke fun at Laxus. She squirmed between the grip and turned her eyes coldly towards Laxus. He leaned in and separated the two women and cuffed Cana over the head gently.

"I said to leave my team alone. Squish 'er face again and I'll see you get no hooch for a week."

"Have fun with that. You can't keep it from the  _bartender_ , after all."

Cana began to ignore them as soon as Mirajane approached to take Ever's finished plate. Laxus began to guide her away and she leaned back and snatched up her toothbrush and Cana's jewel. Immediately, Bickslow swung an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close to ruffle her hair. She weakly protested.

"We get some real action today, baby!" he said. "Maybe we'll have'ta tussle with these fellas!"

"I'd rather not," Freed commented, glancing back at them. "The more we 'tussle,' the more attention we bring to our operation. Would you care to get caught by Ivan, Bickslow?"

With a pout Bickslow dropped his arm from his companion and glared straight ahead. "No. If we did get caught by that guy though, I'd give 'im a kick in his nuts!"

"Bickslow," Freed scolded, "that's no kind of language we use-"

"Me too," Laxus said, offering Bickslow his hand for a high-five.

"We're surrounded by uncouth idiots," Freed hissed to Evergreen.

"Oh, leave 'em be, bluenose. Men'll be men… That's just how it goes."

With a soft scoff and a straightening of his coat, Freed blushed slightly and walked forward to be by Laxus again. The three men chattered (or, rather, Bickslow chattered, Freed commented here and there, and Laxus mumbled) while Ever went up the stairs back towards the living quarters. More and more people were starting to get dressed and, as a proper lady, she refused to be the last one out of her pajamas. It was also going to be time to get to work soon, and you couldn't do that in cotton trousers and an overshirt. It simply wasn't done.

She had just opened up her closet when a knock on the door came and it opened. Levy stood in the doorway, smiling cheerfully while she waited for Evergreen to acknowledge her.

"Oi, Levy, black shirt or white shirt today?" she asked without a greeting, holding up either shirt in her hands.

"White! It's much more professional," Levy chirped. "I was just about to make a run to the dry-cleaners and was wondering if you had anything you needed taken care of." Levy turned her eyes away while Ever took off her overshirt and slid her arms into the button-up. Her fingers brushed against an old dark green greatcoat hanging on a vanity. "How about this? You're always wearing it, I'm sure it needs some professional washing!"

"Take it, but tell 'em to be very careful, if you don't mind. Also, toss me my suspenders over there."

"Is the coat important?" Levy asked as she folded the coat over her arm. "You've had it ever since you came here!"

"It's warm and stuff. I like it," was all she had to say. As soon as she opened up her drawer and pulled a small gun out, Levy began to step towards the door. "I'm not gonna shoot you. Relax, doll. Tried that one time and it didn't work out."

A nervous laugh tripped into the room. Levy's shoulders relaxed as Evergreen clipped the gun into the holder connected to her suspenders. It had been four months since the "episode," as it was frequently referred to by those in Fairy Tail, and she was surprised that the only time the girls flinched around her was when she had a gun in her hand. Once someone held you at gunpoint for a good three hours, you had the right to get sick simply by looking at them. You had to be a real big person to be able to smile at them and even do them favors.

Levy McGarden may have been tiny in stature, but she was one of the biggest people Ever had ever met.

"Go on, Levy. I hear you got a lot of books to sort out today. Go drop off all those clothes and get to it before tonight."

"O-okay! Be safe!"

The door slammed and Ever sighed while she adjusted the straps of her suspenders. Finding suspenders that fit over her chest was hard enough, and it seemed like she had to readjust them every time she put them on. She had neglected to do so once in the past and it had, embarrassingly enough, almost cost her her life. One strap had slid down her arm and surprised her enough that a rival gang member had almost put a bullet in her head while she wrestled for her gun.

Bickslow  _still_ didn't let her live it down.

Laxus opened the door of her room without bothering to knock. She jumped and turned towards him, quickly buttoning up her shirt while sputtering.

"Put on your coat and let's go. Master wants a quick word with us before we head out to pick up the shipment."

"Don't rush a lady while she gets ready. It's not polite," she snapped, whisking her coat over her shoulders.

"'It's not polite,'" Laxus mimicked in a high-pitched voice. He slapped her on the back when she passed through the door.

"That's not what I sound like!"

"Her voice is a little lower-pitched," Freed commented as they walked down the stairs. "More like"-He cleared his throat-"'it's not polite.'"

"You're making her sound like a man!" Laxus defended.

"You're making her sound like a small girl!" Freed snapped back.

The two bickered between each other as they walked towards the exit, catching bemused looks from others. A few snickers were shared behind hands. Evergreen lengthened her stride and made for the exit, embarrassed to the point that her cheeks were turning red. It wasn't often that Freed and Laxus had an argument, but when they did, it was always something perfectly embarrassing, like the two of them shouting "it's not polite" in different, high tones of voice. Embarrassing, embarrassing, utterly embarrassing.

"Hey, Ever, look-! Oh, there she goes."

A man the size of a mountain stepped out of the backdoor of the kitchen just when, unfortunately, Evergreen had taken a particularly wide stride. Her head whacked against the large crate he carried and she stumbled back, her feet moving out from under her, but he, on instinct most definitely, removed one hand from his load and grabbed her wrist. She was caught with complete ease and he only had to adjust his grip on the crate slightly.

"Y-you alright?"

And of  _course_ it was him. Elfman was looking at her with painfully worried eyes that seemed both out of place and at home on such a sharp face. Pressing her lips in irritation, she regained her footing and yanked her wrist out of his hand and moved around him. Ever stuffed her hands into her pockets and glared straight ahead.

"Fine, thanks. Watch where you're going next time."

"Hey,  _you're_ the one who ran into me!" he defended.

"Well, maybe if you weren't so large, there wouldn't be a problem!"

"If you weren't always in such a hurry-"

"If you-"

"No more fighting. Elfman, good to see you. Don't drop that." Laxus grabbed her wrist and yanked her towards the door while she still shouted.

Bickslow and Freed followed closely, attempting to hold in laughs. Their eyes were swimming with tears and their cheeks were puffed up smugly with the effort. It only threw gas onto her flames. She scowled so fiercely at them that they immediately swallowed their chortles and looked away awkwardly, though they still smirked.

The late spring air warmed them as they stepped outside. The street's crowd had thinned out with less workers bustling to their jobs. Vendors still sat on the side of the road, though, offering goods such as fresh fruits and loafs of foreign breads. The area where the speakeasy and living quarters was located just bordered the nicest part of the city, and many came to the area to sell their products to those on their way to work or who were out shopping.

"What's the master wanna talk about?" Bickslow said around a mouthful of apple. "Ain't we gonna see 'im tonight when business gets busy?"

"Apparently, Gramps needs to see us 'officially.' Some sort of secret thing that he doesn't want everyone to know right now." Laxus walked quickly. "I hear Erza and a few others like Natsu and Gajeel have been let in on it, too."

"So it's not quite common info," Freed affirmed.

The buildings were becoming taller and nicer, constructed with shining metal and smooth brick. The sidewalks were cleaner and couples walked arm-in-arm, window shopping mostly. Sleek automobiles drove past more frequently. Flower pots were planted outside every shop to give a hospitable, gentle feeling. Magnolia was fortunate, as a profitable place, to have most of the city be so clean and nice.

Unfortunately, however, the cost of having the majority of the city be proper and respectable was that the far off slums were dirtier and meaner. The deeper you went into the labyrinth, the more vicious people became and the more illegal activities took place. It was the kind of place that you certainly didn't want to be caught in at night; that is,  _if_ you couldn't defend yourself.

The doorman to a particularly fancy building bowed slightly and held the door open for them as they walked in. The lobby was carpeted with deep red velvet and sleek furniture decorated it, the highest standard of modern fashion. The lady sitting at the front desk smiled and stood as they approached.

"Mr. Dreyar is in his office waiting for you. Would you like an escort?"

"We're perfectly fine, thank you," Freed said as they walked past and into the elevator. "Please have a good day, ma'am."

Bickslow hummed loudly as they waited for the elevator to take them to the top floor. Freed tapped his foot and Laxus drummed his fingers against the wall, creating something of an awkward-noise-fueled symphony. When the elevator finally opened, Laxus all but shoved them out the door and towards his grandfather's office. He opened the door without even announcing himself, causing the old man at the desk to jump and frown at them.

"M-master!" Freed stammered out, clearly appalled at Laxus' rude entrance. "Good afternoon!"

"Kids." He cleared his throat and put down his papers. "I'm sorry to have called you here when you've got other business to attend to, but there is something rather important I have to share." He laced his shriveled fingers together while all four of them found a seat. "But first, how is the speakeasy doing? I haven't been there in a month due to work, but Erza tells me 'well,' though she's always overly enthusiastic about business."

"It's doing fine," Ever said, folding her hands in her lap. "Our attendance rates haven't gone down at all. If anything, they've increased."

"Only issue is we're runnin' low on hooch," Bickslow said, leaning forward in his elegant chair. "We're goin' to get the good stuff when this is done, just like ya asked, Mr. Big Cheese!"

"Bickslow," Makarov muttered. "I've told you to stop calling me 'Mr. Big Cheese.' What am I going to do with you?"

"Keep sending me out for the good action, that's what!" He tossed back his head and cackled. "Just don't toss me back out on the streets. I've got enemies there!"

"None of you are going back on the streets," Makarov affirmed with a warm smile, half-hidden behind his moustache. "What kind of father tosses his children out of his house and care?"

Laxus glared and cleared his throat. Makarov caught his expression and sighed, leaning back again.

"You were a troublesome exception. Any father would toss out his child who tries to kill the other children."

The blond gave a shrug, muttering something about the past being in the past, about how he was a jerk back then, and fell silent. Freed gave a nervous laugh, trying to ease up the tension, and Evergreen sighed at the complete idiocy in the room. Laxus was just lucky he was cute and someone she admired to the highest degree, or else she would've given him a good slap upside the head on a regular basis.

"What's this news?" Laxus asked, wandering about the office. He pulled books out from the shelves halfway and jammed them back in after flipping through them.

"Seeing as how you're the security force for the speakeasy, I decided you should know the information," Makarov started.

The old man hopped down from his chair with an envelope in hand. He slid it into Evergreen's hands and the three men crowded around her chair as she began to pull out the contents.

Makarov continued. "We've gotten word from Lamia that Tartaros may be active."

A chill shot up her spine as her eyes brushed over the pictures. Her fingers flicked through one after the other. Images of corpses lying in the streets took up some, the intercrossing hammers of the Tartaros symbol painted on the streets in a mixture of chalk and blood. Others were pictures of men dressed like black ink, Tartaros' signature lacky wardrobe, walking down alleys. There was another picture of a woman dressed in a deep red dress with a black military coat, a cloche hat pulled down low over her face. Black hair flowed out from the back of the hat, and the picture didn't capture her face.

"You think they'll come after us?" Bickslow said, sober and concerned. "We did take down Oracion and we've had Grimoire on the ropes for a while. They'd come at us for revenge, if anything."

"Tartaros generally has no direct target," Makarov reminded, sitting back down at his desk. "They're an embodiment of chaos itself. They never have specific targets unless they need to get rid of something. They simply  _stomp_ on whatever is in their way." In emphasis, Makarov slammed his fist down. The four of them jumped. "I'd say that so long as we don't get in their way, they won't harm us, but it feels wrong to let them do as they please."

"I'd suggest waiting for them to make a move, if they do," Laxus said. He plucked the photos out of Evergreen's fingers and held them to the light. "This could just be a hoax. Any common thug could paint the Tartaros symbol in blood to be 'edgy.'"

"Killing people to be 'edgy' seems to be an extreme," Freed mumbled.

Makarov laughed. "That's almost exactly what Erza said. In any case, I wouldn't want the three of you to worry." He nodded at Freed, Ever, and Bickslow. "I'd put Laxus and Erza, maybe even Mira, on the case if anything happened. They're our best after all."

Evergreen's muscles had gone tense and the tips of her fingers were numb as she clutched the arms of the chair. Her own breathing was all she could hear as the four men went on talking. Despair was clawing into her marrow, as it always did when she merely heard the very word "Tartaros." Freed's hand laid his hand over her own, taking notice of her tenseness.

The word would put any sane person on edge. It was considered an incredibly brutal and notorious mob, but some even went so far as to refer to them as a terrorist organization. They had been quiet for the past couple of years, but their crimes consisted of mass murder, the destruction of rich and noble families, arson on buildings full of civilians, the likes. Things that hardly anybody else could even stomach  _thinking_ of doing.

Makarov had finished during some point of her thinking. "You're all dismissed. Thank you for coming in, and please be safe when you go to pick up the shipment. You can use one of the company cars downstairs to haul it all back to the speakeasy."

"Thank you, sir," Freed said as he corralled the rest of them out. "We look forward to seeing you again at the speakeasy now that the busy month is over."

"I look forward to partying it up with all the pretty young girls!" he replied, puffing out his chest.

"Just make sure you don't break your hip in the process, old man," Laxus said.

A stapler went flying over their heads and they ran down the hall, pushing at each other.

"Get out of here, you disrespectful children!"

* * *

The buildings blocked out a good deal of the sun, leaving them mostly in shadows. The head bootlegger they found themselves faced with as they stepped out of the car was dressed in a gaudy canary yellow shirt and a light brown fedora. His lack of color coordination seemed to be making Freed sick. He turned his eyes away and squinted, as though he had gazed for too long at the sun. It was almost laughable at how sensitive he was to bad fashion. It was his kryptonite, an amusing one at that.

"God help that man," he hissed under his breath as they walked forward.

"You're late," the fashion disaster said as they walked forward. His stubble was unclean and disorderly and a cigar hung out of his mouth. He pulled it out and blew puffs of smoke in their direction. "Some business etiquette."

"Sorry. We had some stuff to do," Laxus said. He pulled a wad of jewel out of his pocket and offered it. "You got the hooch?"

"Sure," he said, gesturing broadly at the truck behind him. Two lackeys dramatically pulled back the cover, revealing multiple cases of moonshine. "All yours. But…"

"But?" Freed echoed, hands on his hips.

"I'm raisin' the fee by 500,000 jewel as a penalty for your tardiness."

"50,000!?" Ever exclaimed, stepping forward. "Outrageous!"

The bootlegger blew another plume of smoke into the air. Evergreen blinked and it seemed that the lackeys had been armed with guns in that split second. She could have sworn that they weren't armed before.

"Longer we stay 'ere, bigger the chance is we get caught. So, y'see, this is a small thing to ask," the fashion disaster said in a smug voice. "You refuse, these boys gun y'down."

Bickslow leaned forward and lifted a hand to whisper into Laxus' ear. "Boss, we didn't bring that kinda dough! What do we do?"

Laxus scowled and glared, shoving the jewel back into his coat pocket. "Look, we don't want any trouble. We're sorry for bein' late and we brought you the right amount of cash. Just hand over the moonshine or we'll leave without doing any business. Had an earful?"

The boss clicked his tongue thrice and wagged a beefy finger. "Now, sir, you can't just  _leave_. Pay the extra to get the hooch, that's what I'm sayin' to ya. Don't do that, try to leave, and we blast your brains out." He put the same finger to the side of his head like a gun and made a slow exploding sound.

"Let's all be civil!" Freed said. He rushed to the middle and threw out his arms. "We fight, we could get the attention of the Bureau. Then nobody wins! Now, ple- Oh, Lord." Freed threw up his arms and moved back to stand by Laxus as the bootlegger pulled a gun out, aimed right at his throat. "How indecent."

Laxus crossed the distant in two lightning-fast strides and lifted the shorter man by his collar. "Don't pull a gun on my crew again. Point it at me, 's fine, but these three are off limits."

The bootlegger had a begrudging look of respect on his face, despite the fact that his toes were barely touching the ground and Laxus was very angry, very fearless, even though he had the barrel of a gun pressed against his abdomen. Ever pressed her lips, tucking her hand under her coat and gripping at the gun stored by her side. The lackeys had their guns pointed straight as Laxus as well. A single wrong move could result in a bloodbath. They had been stuck in this situation before, of course, but they never made it less tense, less frightening. It was hard to ever get over situations where lives were at stake.

She had to be faster than all of them.

"Put me down and my boys don't turn y'into swiss cheese, hot rod," the bootlegger said, patting Laxus' arm quickly. "Maybe we can come to a compromise."

Laxus dropped him with no amount of grace or care, taking a few steps back. The bootlegger fixed his canary shirt and readjusted his disastrous fedora. The lackeys lowered their guns quickly but held them at the ready, military-style almost.

"You got some sort of idea?" Laxus huffed. "I'm gettin' impatient."

After adjusting his tie, the bootlegger straightened up. "I'll take off the 50,000 if you give me somethin' else. That gal over there. Give me a chance with your moll, kid, and all is the bees knees."

Bickslow lifted a hand to his mouth and coughed into it, disguising a laugh. Freed flinched and squinted away again, while Laxus merely lifted an eyebrow. Evergreen shut her eyes and forced down the sneer that was tugging at her top lip. It wasn't unusual that she'd be constantly mistaken for "his girl." She'd been on plenty a business call where bootleggers brought their molls with them. Of course their situation wouldn't look much different- except for the fact that instead of the flapper dresses and short hair, she wore trousers and suspenders and kept her hair long and wild.

Laxus played along. "You wanna hit my girl?" He looked back at her, a sly glare in his eye and his sharp teeth showing as he grinned. "Whaddya say, doll?"

It was showtime: She put on her award-winning smile and clasped her hands primly in front of her, walking forward daintly. It wasn't ever that hard to fake a blush, so she wore one. She looked like a regular fatcat when she acted, bred good and clean and proper.

"Move them pretty gams quicker, doll," he said. Anger warmed her lower stomach. She was only a few feet away now. She was close enough to kick him where it hurt.

His arm snuck around her waist and he turned back to his crew. "Think she's a cute one, boys? Dunno how a shoddy pill like 'im got the likes of 'er."

Lower and lower his hand went, down towards inappropriate places. It was becoming harder to keep up her smile and she glanced back towards the three men. Laxus gave a shrug, Bickslow a thumbs up, and Freed nodded, looking almost guilty. If that wasn't her permission, nothing was.

The bootlegger howled out an expletive as she grabbed his arm and twisted it back to a painful angle. His cigar fell out of his mouth. The lackeys seemed to be dumbfounded for a second, giving her enough time to muster up all her strength and hurl him into them. They all three toppled to the ground, smashing against the truck. One took a wild shot that missed badly. He opened his eyes and took better aim, but before he pulled the trigger on her, a slim piece of metal flew through the air. It planted right below his thumb and he screamed, dropping the gun from the injured hand.

Freed was walking forward, slipping another knife between his fingers with expert precision and care. He looked more savage than gentlemanly and gentle whenever he held a weapon. Bickslow was at her side within a blink, a gun pointed down directly between the bootlegger's eyes, and Laxus merely kicked the other lackey with enough force to render him unconscious. With a fluid movement, her gun was in her hand and also aimed at the bootlegger.

His eyes were darting back and forth and beads of fat sweat slipped down and pooled in the crevice of his upper lip. He was stammering intelligently, nothing of surprise when you had the barrel of two guns pointed at your head.

"G-go on, I'm sorry, t-take it for half-price!" he stammered. "J-just don't kill me and my boys, I'm beggin'! I'm s-sorry I touched your g-gal!"

"Really sorry?" Ever asked, pressing down on the trigger for show.

"Real sorry!" he shrieked.

"What would your mother think?" she said, sliding the gun back in its holster beneath her coat. "Shameful."

"Ohhh, the ol' 'mother-guilt-trip,'" Bickslow said with a chuckle. "That's cold, baby.  _Ice_ cold."

Freed and Laxus had begun packing the alcohol into the back of their car. Ever went to help while Bickslow kept the gun pointed straight and true. The two lackeys were completely unconscious, one from the pain of the knife and the other from his massive headache. The bootlegger was stuttering out excuses to Bickslow and reasons as to why he should absolutely definitely certainly should  _not_ be shot.

"Hey, pikers!" she shouted back. "Got any good wine in the back of that truck?"

"J-just got in a case yesterday," he stammered. "Straight from the best cellar in Edolas! T-take it for free! My treat!"

The three men got into the car while she pulled out the entire case. With a look of disdain, she tossed Cana's jewel on him like confetti. "Just take your money. I'm an honest bootlegger and I pay my dues."

Laxus leaned out the car window while Freed started the car. "Thanks for the good clean business boys. Have a nice day."

The car drove off with the insane laughter of Bickslow trailing after.

* * *

Slang Used:

Bearcat- A feisty woman

Cat's meow- Cool, a good time

Bluenose- A prude person

"Had an earful?"- Understand?

Moll- A gangster/mobster's girl

Piker- A coward

 


	2. scarlet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've always loved writing about relationships between contrasting characters, such as Erza and Ever! please enjoy this chapter!

The loud hum of the car shook the seats slightly. Laxus kept his eyes on the road while Freed and Bickslow kept their eyes on either side of the vehicle, checking the streets for police. Evergreen rested her head in her hand, a bag stuffed with the wine bottles between her legs, and stared at the envelope of pictures Makarov had given them. The feeling in her gut was dismal and dark. She hadn't been in Fairy Tail last when Tartaros was active, but she'd… heard horror stories. Stories about illegal processes, fraud, and savage murder to say in the least. In the end, the corpses sometimes would look like a demon had ravaged them. Their eyes could've been gouged out, chunks of flesh may have been missing, and limbs would be dismembered and hang loosely off the body or be scattered around the scene.

Revolting.

In the back seat, Freed pulled the cover over the shipment of moonshine more. He must have spotted a cop, but it took no notice of them. Bickslow whistled and whittled away at a chunk of wood in his hand. The car still hummed. Laxus glanced at her briefly, looked back to the road, then looked at her again a second later with an annoyed look.

"Put those damn photos away," he said, taking a hand off the wheel to push them back into the envelope in her hand. "They'll give you nightmares. Get you all balled up. You know that, Ever."

"How can people do things like this?" she asked him. "I mean,  _are_ they even people? Seem more like demons to me."

"There's a reason Tartaros are called the Demons of the Underground," Freed pitched in. "They've never displayed any human empathy or spared a single soul. They're constantly on a warpath."

"Almost there," Laxus cut in. "All the booze safe and sound, guys?"

"Well, your driving is so abhorrent that I'm surprised nothing spilled or broke," said Freed snidely. "But yes, it's all safe."

"Dry up," he muttered. "I can't let Ever drive all the time. Cops and agents get suspicious when women drive around."

"And that's stupid," she reminded him.

"And that's stupid," he agreed. "The speakeasy is in sight. You guys should get ready to unload."

Jet and Gray were there to help unload when they pulled up. Natsu and Erza quickly joined, no doubt drawn by the sound of a rickety engine, and all the alcohol was stacked in the halls quickly.

"You guys got a good haul this time around!" Lisanna said. She pulled bottles out of the crates and stacked them in order on the shelf. "I thought the shipment was supposed to be smaller."

"They tried to shoot us," Evergreen said simply, "so we beat them up and they gave us almost everything. It was fun." She hefted the wine bag over her shoulder.

"Sounds like it," Mirajane chimed. "You guys do such exciting things!"

Levy and Droy were polishing tables and setting down bowls of nuts and olives for the guests that would be coming soon. Cana was polishing fine glasses, and Natsu was lighting the fire in the corner to get things warm… And he was doing it maybe a little  _too_ well.

He yipped as the flames licked at him and threatened to grasp at nearby curtains with greedy fingers. Desperately, he looked around for something to beat the excess flames out with while everyone sighed, unconcerned at the common incident. Before he could throw a silk napkin on the fire, water splashed onto the fireplace. The fire immediately went out and Natsu was left with some soot on his shirt and water in his face.

"Goodness, Mr. Dragneel, do be more careful!"

Evergreen turned, a hand on her hip, and lifted the other in greeting. Gajeel was walking in the back door with two young women behind him. The one who had splashed a glass of water on the flames had gently curling blue hair and was dressed to the nines. Her cloche hat was adorned with a single silver feather that matched the color of her fur coat and diamond necklace. The other was a cheerful-seeming blonde dressed in brighter shades and dangerously, compared to her conservative companion. Her light pink dress went down to the middle of her thigh and the neckline plunged. Together, they looked like day and night.

"We're here!" said the bright one. "Nice to see everyone today, even if Natsu did almost set everything on fire."

"I didn't even come close, Lucy!" he protested. "It was only a little out-of-control. Remember that one time I burned Gramps' real fancy silk curtains? Wasn't nearly as half as bad as that."

Lucy shuddered. "Natsu… nothing was as bad as that. The speakeasy smelled for days and the big cheese wouldn't let you in until it was gone."

"A dark time," Freed agreed. "May I take your coats, Miss Lucy? Miss Juvia?"

"Thank you, Mr. Justine!" Juvia said, sliding out of her fur. "Always so polite!"

He only smiled and slipped the coats over his arm. Bickslow leaned over the counter of the bar and yelled "showoff!" Evergreen smirked beneath a hand, earning a scolding look from Freed. The bar returned to its normal preparations, girls greeted and fire-crisis dealt with.

"How was your day?" Ever asked the girls casually. Both looked clean and sparkling with good-health as usual. "You seem chipper."

"It was the bee's knees!" Juvia smiled. "Gran and Juvia went out shopping together! It rarely happens, so it was a nice treat!"

Lucy was considerably less enthusiastic. "Father made me attend ballroom lessons again. It was dull and my partner was  _clearly_ someone he was trying to set me up with. I didn't like him." She was on a slight rant. "And then I had to go to violin lessons! I don't even like the violin! It hurts my hand and  _nobody_ outside a band plays the violin anymore."

"I think the violin sounds interesting," Gajeel said. "Sounds wild!"

Lisanna giggled. "Gajeel… I don't know if you're really thinking about a violin…"

Both Lucy and Juvia belonged to highborn, fat cat families. While Evergreen could withstand Juvia's grandmother, as she seemed polite and fair, whenever Lucy talked about her father, it made her cringe. He was the epitome of greedy and haughty and did no good for the stereotypes given to the rich everywhere.

"You got it rough, Lucy," she said.

The band was starting music up on the stage and the cushions on the couches were getting puffed up and ready to be sat on. A few customers were leaking in through the door now, escorted in by Bickslow and Freed, and glasses started clinking as drinks were filled.

"Evergreen, go should get changed!" Mira called. "More customers are going to be coming soon."

"Sure, sure," she said, brushing past an arguing Natsu and Bickslow. "I'll go get dolled up."

Cana was soon upon her though, following her out of the bar and into the lobby below the living quarters. She'd gotten dressed up for the night, her hair perfectly decorated and a sparkling dress gleaming as it caught the light.

"Got the goods, doll?" she asked.

"Here," Evergreen said, sliding her bag off her shoulder.

Cana would have squealed with delight- if squealing were something she did- when she saw the multiple bottles of wine. Her appraising eyes swept over a jug in her hand, studying the label.

"This is the expensive stuff!" the young woman said. "And my money covered all'a this?"

"Not really," she said. "Got it all as a gift, you could say. Still gave the thug your money, though. Guy's gotta make a living, right?"

"So cruel but so kind," Cana commented casually. "That's what I respect about ya!"

"Most people overlook the 'kind' part," she said with a smirk. "But I'm always this kind."

Cana reached down for the whole bag. Evergreen knelt down and snatched up a bottle, waving it slightly in her hand.

"Take your booze and store the rest of this. I get to save this one for a rainy day, though."

Cana mischievously put her fingers over her lips, glancing at Evergreen slyly. "Ohhh~ Stealing from the company~"

"It's not stealing!" Evergreen protested. "Fought for this fair and square. Had to point a gun at a guy! I think I deserve a bottle for when I need a pick-me-up."

The other brunette gave a hefty laugh and took the bag, waving a farewell as she strolled back into the speakeasy. The music was starting into a full swing and people were chatting. The night was turning into any other at Fairy Tail.

Once in the safety of her room, she set the wine on her bed and slipped the Tartaros pictures out of her trouser pocket. Again, she pulled them out and flipped through them. Her eyes kept going back to the image of the woman in the military coat with the flowing black hair. The way she angled her body, even how her hair fell, it all made her vaguely unsettled, almost more so than the murder victims.

Looking at her reminded her of blood. Hot, stinging blood that was as heavy as silk on your skin.

She almost crumpled the picture.

"Hey!"

Laxus knocked on her door and she shoved the pictures back into the envelope.

"Place is startin' to fill up! You're security; you know you're required to be down at all times."

"Be there in a second!" she called back. "Just… havin' trouble with my dress."

"Don't care. Just hurry that ass up into the bar."

His dull footsteps disappeared down the hall and she sighed. She opened up the drawer of her desk and slid in the bottle of wine and the pictures, locking it when she was done. The master hadn't mentioned anything about needing the pictures and Laxus had certainly forgotten about them by then. And besides, they would be safe with her. She kept everything safe, save for few.

She would also need them later.

Ever slid on her dress and sat down at her vanity, listening to the riotous music from a few levels below. Her hair needed primping and her face a good cleaning and brush-over with makeup before she was safe to present herself before the visitors downstairs. Never would she dare to be caught in front of rich men and women while in a state of disarray. It was the symbol of an absent mind and reflected poorly on Laxus, especially.

She slipped back into the speakeasy quietly, barely noticed through the hazy smoke coming from cigars and the crashing jazz music. Mira and Cana had their hands full distributing drinks and filling orders, so much so that Elfman had emerged from the kitchen and was diligently handing his sister and her girlfriend what they needed. He mostly stayed in the kitchen from when business got rolling until late during the night; he was so tall and took up so much space that it was hard for him to move around and people tended to stare at him.

Evergreen almost pitied him.

"Hey, Ever!" Freed waved at her, shouting over the noise. "Bickslow and I got door duty! Go ahead and mingle, but stay on your toes!"

Certain that her words would remain unheard over the sound, she simply waved back and turned towards the bar, taking a seat at the end to survey the ongoing ruckus. Mushy couples were cuddling on the couch and pecking at each other's lips. The sight made her stomach flip and her cheeks heat up, so she turned to look elsewhere.

Levy was sitting with Gajeel at a table and laughing, while Gajeel kept his usual painfully serious face on. It was always difficult to read what he was feeling, but she suspected he was enjoying himself. He usually did when he was with her. Juvia was hovering over Lucy's shoulder as she read a magazine, pointing at a page and smiling delightedly.

Everyone was having a good time, just like every single other night.

Erza walked past her as she was about to order a drink from Mira. Her scarlet hair swung in place and she walked powerfully, loudly enough to announce her presence, but softly enough to not annoy anyone. Ever hopped off the barstool and shadowed her until she sat down at a free table with all the grace of a queen. The redhead choked on a mouthful of nuts when Ever slammed her hand down, rattling the table.

"Wanna have a talk?" she asked.

Before Erza could respond, she had seated herself and folded her hands together, indicating that she was there for business and business alone. The two had never quite gotten along, though- it made her queasy to even  _think_ it- Evergreen had greatly admired her in their youth. She'd wanted to be like Erza. Walk like her. Talk like her.  _Look_ like her. Erza Scarlet, Fairy Tail's elite woman, was admired by everyone, even her enemies, and was seemingly unconquerable.

What a dream.

Erza sighed and pulled a pack of cigarettes out of her dress pocket, taking one and then shaking the box towards Evergreen. Erza did not smoke often, though she always carried a box of smokes for business partners, so it indicated that she'd been having a stressful time. The brunette waved the box away, shaking her head. She didn't smoke often, either. Though it was in fashion, and she  _liked_ to follow fashion, smoking irritated her lungs and generally made her ill for days. With a shrug, Erza put away the box and pulled out a lighter, covering the smoke while she flicked the switch and tried to light it.

"What's this about, Evergreen?" she asked, blowing out a small puff of smoke. "You scarcely ever approach me."

"I hear the master talked to you as well."

"Yes, we speak often!" she said cheerfully. Typical Erza, so sweet, but never able to pinpoint a topic. "It's always nice."

"N-not just any old talk, Scarlet…" She felt a headache forming from both Erza's obliviousness and the cigarette smoke. "You talked about Tartaros."

The younger woman went all business. Her arm crossed underneath her chest, covered modestly compared to some other women in the speakeasy, and she held the cigarette aloft with the other hand. Her eyes sharpened and they flicked over Evergreen, as if attempting to look through her and find her secrets. It certainly wasn't a look that Erza intended, but it was the one she always got on her face when she was serious.

"We did. I guess this means he consulted the Raijinshuu as well?"

"We're security. Of course he did. It's our job to keep this business safe, and with the Demons roaming around, we gotta be on our toes constantly."

"You weren't in Fairy Tail when Tartaros was last active. It was about half-a-year before you joined that they committed their last big crime before disappearing until now." Her eyes narrowed. "You know what they did, correct?"

Of course she did. It made her stomach turn to think about. She imagined blood and fire when she thought about it.

"They killed the Jaeger family," Ever said, lowering her voice and leaning over the table. "Adam and Blake Jaeger and their only child, Rissa."

"Correct." Erza blew out more smoke towards the already hazy main lobby. "After that, they also slaughtered half the staff living in the mansion in their sleep, then set it on fire when they didn't find the fortune they were searching for. They found the bodies of all three Jaegers burned to crisps in the courtyard after they put the fire out."

It was a gruesome story. There had been at least 25 staff who lived in the mansion, all burned with hardly a body to return to their family. Word had it that Tartaros had been searching for the Jaeger fortune, but hadn't had any luck.

"It'll be about six years in a few months that the incident occurred." The redhead scrunched the cigarette in the ashtray between them, the butt crumbling among the rest of the ash. "It caused such a ruckus that they couldn't even bribe their way out of it. They've been underground since."

"Why come back now?" she asked Erza. "After so long?"

The young woman pulled out her lighter again, flicking it to life as she held it between the two. "Chaos. That's all they've ever been after. All they want is to wipe out all others until they have everything they want. And with the Prohibition sending Fiore into a state of organized crime, this is the perfect time. They've let it simmer. They've waited. All government attention is on bootlegging. The Bureau is corrupt. Anyone who can stop them is occupied or doesn't care."

"Except us," Ever corrected.

Erza smiled. "Except us. If they dare hurt a single one of us or any of our friends-"she snapped the lighter closed- "we'll be on them so fast, they won't know what's hit them."

"Sounds like the cat's pajamas," Ever said. She pulled out of the seat and stood. "Sorry to interrupt you, but I'm going to go have a drink now." She turned her back and stared at the party. "Got a lot to think about."

* * *

Slang used:

Balled up- Confused, messed up

Big cheese- Boss

Bee's knees- Extraordinary

Cat's pajamas- Neat, cool

 


	3. gunshot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i had such a hard time writing this chapter ;.; i feel like it's very stiff, so forgive me, but i'm having a lot easier of a time writing now that this is out of the way. also, to clear up confusion for readers who aren't american or who just aren't interested in history:
> 
> in the 1920s, the government put a ban on all forms of alcohol for too many reasons to count. obviously, people wanted to keep drinking, so little bars called "speakeasies" popped up all over the country, but especially in the east. speakeasies ranged from being small, ratty little places to being big and grand bars that lots of rich people went to for entertainment and socialization. to combat these speakeasies (and bootlegging, which was the process of making/transporting alcohol illegally), the government set up a department of law enforcement called the "bureau of prohibition," which was massively corrupt and known for killing civilians left and right if they were in the wrong place at the wrong time.
> 
> the 1920s in america was a big time for organized crime and law-breaking, in general, but it's considered a glamorous, post-war era with cool fashion and fun parties before everything went downhill in the great depression. i'd really suggest looking more into the 20s if you're even just a bit interested!
> 
> tldr; in this story, fairy tail is a big odd-job company in magnolia, but they also run a glamorous and very popular speakeasy underground. the raijinshuu are both bootleggers for the speakeasy and security that's supposed to keep watch and keep the bureau away from everyone.

The wind was blowing harshly enough that women had to hold down their skirts and men were cautiously holding to their hats. The flowers from a sprawling garden surrendered their petals to the wind, floating lightly in the air like it was a fairy tale.

A mother herding four children scampered by, attempting to grab the collar of her son's shirt. Evergreen stepped aside for her and smashed her own hat back down on her head as the wind tempted it away. Two little girls, giggling and reaching for one another, sprinted past her, their mothers yelling for them to stop running, because it was "not ladylike."

Ever hid her mouth, tipping into a smirk, behind her hand, thinking about how the women would have heart palpitations if they saw her in trousers and suspenders with a gun strapped to them. Or, worse, perhaps faint if they saw Cana with all her boisterous laughs and dangerously short and fun dresses, pouring glass upon glass of alcohol behind a bar.

"Please come this way!" a woman shouted. She was tall and spindly, and with her black hair, she vaguely reminded Evergreen of a spider. "The tour of the old Jaeger mansion will begin shortly."

The woman's thin hand swooped around and spread out towards the mansion behind her. It was tall and large, half of it burned apart and the other half immaculately kept together, no doubt by the city. Flowers, standing out almost garishly, were planted in every windowsill.

Evergreen hung back and stared, then stayed behind the crowd by a good length. There were families and couples and visitors, all staring up in awe at the preserved ruins. They had little to no idea of the brutality and bloodshed that had happened there only a short six years ago.

The murder site had been turned into a damn tourist trap.

* * *

" _The day off?"_

_Makarov looked up from his desk at her, tired-eyed and weary. She stood straightly at the front of his desk, pushing her glasses up her nose._

" _Yes, sir. I've been working a lot lately and… wanted to go do some things."_

" _Does this have to do with Tartaros, young lady?"_

_Her body stiffened. Her hand went down to her purse and clenched tightly on it until she could feel the rough outline of the gun and envelope inside. It was pitiful, she supposed, that her disgust and anger were so visible to him. Then again, he knew, after all. Knew all that bottled up anger and rage inside her. Since it had settled within her, she had never been the same._

" _You've been fidgety and snappish for the past two weeks since you were informed," he grumbled. His old eyes observed her from above a paper. "More so than usual."_

" _It's nothing," Ever snapped, perhaps a bit too hastily. "I just want to go see things, sir."_

" _You're an observer down to the depths of your bones. You always want to be in on everything." He scrawled on an official form. "You're angry and bitter. I suppose we could pin that on my grandson. He rubbed off on you too much."_

" _Laxus hasn't been a bad influence on me at all!" she protested._

" _Just five months ago, you were trying to kill people for him," he reminded. "Good people. Don't forget your sin, child. The sin you all committed for him."_

_Evergreen inhaled deeply through her nose and leaned back, staring up at the chandelier. How were any of them to forget when, no matter how much time passed, people still flinched when they moved too suddenly, left the room when they practiced with their weapons, smiled awkwardly during a conversation?_

_You must never forget a sin, lest you not learn from it._

" _I won't forget what we did," she affirmed. "Thank you... for forgiving us like you have."_

" _Laxus pleaded with me. He wanted all the responsibility for the ploy." Makarov waved his hand. "Maybe I'll give you the day off… Under two conditions."_

_Her fingers drummed impatiently on her thigh. Makarov stared at her, a big smile under his bushy mustache, and she grumbled an agreement._

" _First, I know you snuck Cana some high-quality wine. Wrestle me a bottle out of her sneaky little paws later and I won't regret letting you off the leash for a day."_

" _Shouldn't be too hard," Evergreen muttered. "She doesn't keep her private stash very well protected. What else?"_

" _Where are you going? If you stir up trouble, I might regret it."_

_A nervous lump formed in her throat. She felt about the outside of her purse again for the outline of the gun and gazed out the window behind the old man. She didn't meet his eyes._

" _I'll be visiting the old Jaeger mansion," she admitted._

" _Evergreen," he said cautiously. "That sounds an awful lot like the start of-"_

" _It is an investigation, before you finish." She sighed. "I know you don't like the idea of my going there, but, if Tartaros is showing their slimy faces around again, you know the Bureau isn't going to pinch them, and the Council is too afraid to do anything about a big bad like Tartaros."_

" _Evergreen," Makarov began solemnly. "Please look at me. If you're in the wrong place at the wrong time, you could be left holding the bag, or, worse, you'll end up with a few in your chest."_

" _I'm smarter than that," she boasted, hands on her hips. "I just- just want to be able to protect this place."_

_Makarov sighed and shooed her towards the door. He had one more concerned look for her and then he went back to his paperwork. Her fingertips had just barely landed on the knob before he spoke again._

" _Don't get hurt. And don't make me regret telling you about Tartaros."_

* * *

"This is where the family-"

Evergreen tuned out the tour guide and took to staring at the flowers lining the gazebo. There were roses, tulips, crocuses, and forsythia bushes that she particularly admired. The yellow branches waved at her and she moved on reluctantly, following the tour group limply.

The city claimed it was for "culture," but the real reason, she had heard, that the mansion was turned into a tourist site was so that the people of the city weren't spooked by it. It was much more friendly if it was displayed as a somewhat spooky, but fun, tourist site rather than the place where dozens of people had been murdered in one night, whether they were executed or shot or burned to death.

People gobbled it up. Mothers took their children for relaxtion and it was a popular date site. Boys hoped that their sweethearts would cling to them at the cheesy and over-exaggerated story of the ghosts of the family who had once lived there. On Halloween, kids tried to "test their courage" in the front courtyard by calling for ghosts.

If you asked Evergreen, it was a massive disrespect, and it made her furious. The loss of numerous lives was only something to be trampled and played with now. It made her wish that she hadn't come. She wasn't finding much of anything anyway. No remaining signs of evidence, not the symbol of Tartaros painted on the wall in blood and ash: Nothing.

It had, perhaps, been foolish to assume that she'd find anything at what was now a spider's web for tourists. Obviously, they would have cleaned everything up to keep it from drawing negative attention. The story of the brutal murders was barely more than a myth to the people.

But she knew better.

Two little girls darted past her and she stepped aside for them. Their hands reached out eagerly for the flowers so perfectly placed in the pots all around, but they quickly scampered away when an old man scolded them. He returned to attentively listening to the tour guide as she wove an exaggerated tale of the lost fortune of the old family, how it had been what they were murdered for, but was never found. A few women, particularly gullible, gasped and covered their mouths.

"Load'a crap. Right, boss?"

Ever's ears automatically tuned in to listen to the conversations different from the rest. The voices were coming from her right, and she inched towards there.

"Of course," a soft and smooth voice replied. It was definitely male, definitely young. "It's still out there. That's what the King says, at least."

Now,  _that_ was interesting.

Definitely suspicious.

Squeezing past a couple of complaining spectators, she rummaged herself into a small group near the conversors. The young woman pushed her hat lower on her brow and reached for the weapon concealed in her silk bag in caution.

They lowered their voices, soft enough so now she couldn't hear them, but, peeking over the shoulder of a tall and plump woman, she caught sight of the men talking with one another. All four wore black, but one in the middle wore a more ornate coat with a fashionable red vest underneath. A pocket watch hung limply out of his pocket, and he slumped when he walked. His posture was the opposite of what his voice sounded.

One of them looked up towards the tallest tower of the mansion, then leaned in to the ornately dressed man and whispered something. The four nodded, then dispersed from the group without a soul noticing. They were deadly quiet, frighteningly so, and they slipped behind a nearby hedge.

"Keep them gams movin', dame," a man snarled at her. His shoulder thrust her out of the way and he kept moving with the tour group.

Her cheeks burned. "Well, I never!" she huffed to herself. "Rude!"

By the time she had finished recovering and stopped being huffy, the cloaked men had vanished from behind the hedge. Ever slipped around, looking left and right behind the bushes and trees, but they had vanished with hardly a trace. The closest thing she got to interesting, and it was gone. She swore, just a little because the two girls from earlier were right in front of her, and slunk back to the tour group quietly and listened to the guide with annoyance.

"Over here, in this tower, is the library where-"

The tower was the same as the one that had been motioned at by the suspicious men. Through the bustling crowd of tourists, she was unable to keep an eye out for them, however. With the constant movement around her, it was all she could do to keep her eyes in focus. There was too much sound. People were moving around and talking, and it was so much that she couldn't even breathe.

"What's behind that door?" a young man asked, pointing to a wooden door, ornate with flowers and thick vines. "Can we go in?"

The tour guide hesitated, then pulled a stiff smile on. "I'm afraid not, out of respect for the late Jaeger family. It was a very personal spot. Not even the family's staff was allowed to go in there."

Grumbles of annoyance erupted from the crowd, because the place  _did_ have an air of mystery about it and would've been interesting to see, but they disappeared as quickly as they had come. People still lingered, though. A father had to hold his child back from tugging on the vines. Evergreen stopped where she stood, hesitantly lingering in front of the door. People washed around her, as though she was a rock in the middle of the ocean. The sweet scent of honeysuckle seemed to tangibly pull at her with a nostalgic scent, and the bloomed crocuses peeked at her from beneath the door. They seemed to beckon her forward as they waved in the wind, like tempting fingers.

She took a step, purely unconsciously.

_Was there anything alive in there?_

The snap of a branch took away the whirlwind of nostalgic flowers. Reality was sharp again, and the last people were leaving her behind. With a roll of her shoulders, Ever began to move forward, but caught movement in the corner of her eye as the people around her thinned out.

The four shady people were walking past her, weaving through bushes, barely seen through the waves of people and scarcely audible through their sound. The well-dressed man was rolling up a piece of paper in his hands, and the sleeves of his thin jacket were pulled up to his elbow.

There were interlinking hammers on his forearm.

Her heart skipped a beat.

"Damn it to hell," she hissed through her breath. Her hand fell on her gun inside her purse and she clicked the safety off.

He stiffened, looked over his shoulder at her, just barely, then turned tail and ran, whispering "Cop" to his companions. One of them whipped a gun out of nowhere and they followed.

"Cop? You wish," Ever muttered.

The last gaggle of people had disappeared behind a corner into the main gardens. She took off, her feet pounding against the grass, and she desperately tried to keep up with them. It stung her to admit, but they were faster than her, particularly the one with the mark. He ran like a wild animal, despite all his finery. Her eyes remained focused on the one with the gun, staring intently at the weapon. Her own was at the ready in one hand, and she had a set target in mind: the marked one's head.

"Shoot at the broad!" one of the men shouted.

Ever turned on the ball of her foot and slid behind a statue as if she was sliding to home in a baseball game. A gunshot that ripped the air in half took a chip off the shoulder of the rock and fell upon her head. People began to yell back from where the group was. Security was never thick around places like these, if it was ever there at all, so at least she wouldn't have big guard dog brutes coming after her. More gunshots, though, might convince someone to call the Bureau, and that wouldn't end well for anyone. They wouldn't hesitate to shoot anyone down, civilian or not.

The footsteps kept pounding away- four of them. The one shooting at her was carrying on with her sufficiently "scared off" by his single shot. Ever stood up, her gun gripped in both hands, and glanced around the edge of the decrepit statue. The edge of a black coat was just disappearing outside of the obsidian gates. The sound of nosy men from the tour group running to check out the commotion was coming near.

"Aaaaand time to go," she whispered to herself.

Ever gripped the bar of the gate and swung around it for the sake of speed. She kicked it closed when the men came running at her, shouting if she was okay and to "let them help." Though their intentions were good, there was no doubt they were seeing her as a frightened dame, startled by the gunshot and waiting for a man to come and retrieve her.

The thought made her gag.

The four Tartaros members were booking it down the dirt road, heading back towards the way of the city. The paper was still clutched tightly in the man's grip. Evergreen briefly wondered what it contained and where they had gotten it, but quickly shoved away the thought with a scowl and started to give chase. She had, at most, five minutes until they reached the outskirts of town with the pace they were running at. It wasn't wise to fire a gunshot within two minutes of the town, or the city would be sent into a panic. Law enforcement would come running. People would be screaming. It would be more trouble than it was worth.

The man turned around again, pointed the gun, and let go a sloppy shot. Ever panted, threw herself towards the ground, and shoulder-rolled back up to keep running while barely missing a beat, though the skirt of her dress was caught around her thighs now, and definitely slowing her down. In any case, the shot hadn't come near her, but better safe than sorry, and best to keep the man thinking he had even  _half_ of a good aim.

"Just slow down and let me catch you!" she huffed after the first minute was over.

But they didn't slow down, even when she was reaching her point of exhaustion. It seemed inhuman, how they kept running, running,  _running_ , scarcely losing a step. Her hand was shaking so much that no matter how she positioned her firearm, even steadying her arm by gripping it with the other, she couldn't get a solid aim. The first buildings of the city were passing by. People were moving aside and staring. She kept shaking.

She was going to lose them.

Her breath became ragged.

Her only lead.

Eventually, they vanished behind a tall building. Evergreen gave one last burst of speed, but by the time she turned the corner, they had vanished. Slapping her hand against the structure, she bent over and panted. The safety on the gun clicked back on. Her stomach was flopping, which was an unusual reaction. Naturally, she could keep a moderate pace for a solid 10 minutes, given her years of experience; she went running at least three times a week. But somehow, some- _damn_ -how, she had fallen behind. And she was shaking. Her hand reached up and clutched at the fabric over her heart.

_Fear._

Had she been subjected to fear, only by seeing that mark?  _Pathetic_. To be gasping and clutching at her heart and sweating just from seeing something so small.

Ever stood up straight again, tried to calm her heart, and arranged her skirts back into a proper position.

" _You're angry and bitter_."

Makarov was right. And that smarted for sure.

"Is that-! Ever! It is you!"

The sweet voice shook her to the core. Evergreen shoved the gun back into her purse and turned her head. A tall girl stood behind her, dressed in a modest, light pink dress that touched her ankles, and soft lavender hair tied over her shoulder neatly. Her blue eyes had a delicate, sloping look to them, like she was always ready to laugh.

"Ri-Rize."

The girl, Rize, worked in Magnolia's most infamous bakery, to which she and Bickslow were frequent customers. She was holding a newspaper in her hand, and she waved it front of Evergreen's face.

"Look, look at this! You have to come inside!"

Ever's eyes strained to catch the picture on the waving paper. "Oh, no, I'm-"

She hadn't realized she was just around the corner from the local bakery. Her nostrils had been so full of the smell of her own sweat and of the dirt road that she'd not smelled breads and cake. But now, the baker was grabbing her and shoving her inside and forcefully sitting her down at the counter, and it felt like a relief to be somewhere so familiar and safe.

"Coffee? Or hot chocolate?" the woman asked. She slid her load off her shoulder and tied a fluffy white apron over her dress. "Something hot to drink would be nice."

"No, I have to-" Ever began to stand from the booth, but the baker reached over and shoved her back down. "I have stuff to do!"

"Just sit there and read the news," the young woman said. "It's got that gross guy that you hate on the cover."

If anything was going to get her to settle, it was that. The baker had flopped down the newspaper at the seat next to her, and she snatched it up, flipping through the pages to fold it back to the cover. A distinct sound of disgust rolled out of her throat like slime as she read through the headline. One greasy bastard stared at her up from the cover, a lowly smile stretched from ear to ear.

Oh, he looked  _so_ proud of himself.

"'Chief Ivan Dreyar  _honored_ at local ceremony for his excellent work in shutting down speakeasies,'" she read in a mocking voice. She slammed the paper down and glared at the picture. "Like hell any self-respecting citizen in this town believes that."

"Some do," said Rize. She was preparing Ever's usual while she talked. "Those who are in favor of the Prohibition, mostly. They want the speakeasies down and out."

"I don't see why!" she exclaimed. "It's not doing anyone any harm, and the government shouldn't have the power to do"-She waved her hands around-"all of what they're doing!"

Ever's hands clenched onto the paper, crumpling the edges tightly. Everyone knew that Ivan Dreyar was a no good murderer. Under his rule, multitudes of innocent civilians caught in speakeasies, or even suspected of having alcohol, were shot. Women and men alike, shot dead in the streets. Blood was on his hands and he  _loved_ it, she was sure. Any kind of attention was the kind that he relished in, even if it made him unpopular.

Laxus' father, and the previous heir to the Fairy Tail company, had left the guild only a few short months after she'd joined. He smiled only with deceit, spoke only lies, and was generally a coward who hid behind his only son. She recalled how greasy his hair looked, thin and slimy with all his fancy hair product, and how sickeningly sweet his breath was from those times when he'd leaned into her.

_"My my, my son came across quite the beauty! I hope you prove much better company than that shameful excuse for a man and his ratty friend he dragged in,"_  Ivan had said.  _"Just remember your place next to him as a_ woman _."_

She had decided then and there that she would probably  _always_ harbor a strong dislike for Ivan, and her disdain had been justified when he eventually began to whisper rumors and suspicions to enemies. Makarov had been swift and brutal in cutting his son off from the company. It had been shortly before the Prohibition was announced. Unfortunately, Laxus had issues with the loss of his father, and she and the rest of the Raijinshuu had no choice but to watch as he went down a slippery slope, culminating in a savage attack which nearly lead to a mass murder.

A mass murder that would have been on  _her_ hands if she hadn't had her own self doubts about murdering good, kind girls, or if Erza hadn't escaped from her binding and pummeled Evergreen over the head with a block of wood.

She put her hand to the back of her head and wobbled on the stool. The pain still stuck when she thought about it. Erza had a damn good swing. There was a reason she was the region's top female boxer and the one Makarov sent out for the tough jobs.

"Stop ranting about the government and eat up." Rize put down a plate of sweet rolls and meat in front of her. Placed next to it was a tall cup of hot chocolate. It smelled divine. "You look like a mess! What were you doing before I found you, running for your life?"

"Maybe," she muttered, the beginnings of a roll in her mouth.

"Well, eat up, wiggle on home, and shower. Respectable girls shouldn't be looking like a mess while they're out on the town!" The young lady sighed and brushed the curtains aside to gaze out. "And look, the sun's starting to go down. Won't be safe pretty soon."

"I can handle myself," she affirmed. Half the plate was already gone and the drink had vanished. "Sundown doesn't scare me."

Rize sighed. She turned and began to mop up the counter. Clammerings from the back indicated that her father and grandfather were also beginning a cleanup. Ever kept flipping through the paper, relieved to find that only the front page had anything to do with Ivan or the Bureau. The other stories were columns, photography, news on movies and stocks and taxes. When she left the bakery, the gun show from earlier was towards the back of her mind. Her shoulders were more relaxed, and the anger and fear in her stomach was bubbling down.

"Next time," she mumbled, a hand on her chest. "I won't be scared next time."

Next time, she wouldn't be so reckless. Maybe she would tug Bickslow along with her. In a desperate situation, he was surprisingly level-headed. He was also a better runner, and more likely to take a hostage instead of shoot blindly with a burning feeling, hoping for a kill. He didn't have the same feelings as she did, when it came to Tartaros, at least.

The sun was melting out of the sky. Shades of blue were taking over, and the moon was hanging itself. The city was starting to smell heavy from the workday and sweat on the people. Workers were heading home, bags of groceries piled high in their arms and the hard workday clear on their faces. Some would be heading to speakeasies later to relax and loosen their shoulders, if only for a bit. Others would remain dutiful, law-abiding citizens and have a glass of water before bed.

The cicadas were starting to emerge from the depths of the trees. A few had begun to scream already. Gaggles of girls were huddling together and walking into girls-only lodgings. People's footsteps began to disappear into their homes.

The small buildings were thinning, turning into taller and sturdier ones. A dark red cat began to walk alongside Ever. She glanced at it and it twitched its ears. It made no movement when she leaned towards it. It only yawned and kept walking without a sound, keeping her pace.

"Might rain tomorrow," she told it. "Got a place to stay?"

The cat chirped.

"I would take you home, but Scarlet doesn't like animals in the lodgings. Although, she did let Bisca keep a lot of animals in her apartment, but it's not an issue now that she's living with Alzack. Al let's her have all the animals she wants." Ever smiled and pressed her fingers to her lips. "What do you think about that? Sweet, ain't it?"

Kindly, the cat conversed back with a barrage of chirps and mews while she stopped by a flower cart. The old lady selling them handed her a large bouquet and gratefully took the handful of coins that Ever handed to her. The cat kept walking alongside her, keeping up an unusually polite conversation. Even when Evergreen shook petals from a hydrangea onto it, it kept meowing.

"Odd little cat," she said.

The sky was almost completely dark by now. The last strokes of sunset were fading in the west sky. Vendors were closing their stands and shop owners twisting their signs to say "Closed." The sound of her boots on the sidewalk were becoming more and more empty and loud. The cat seemed to be getting tired of walking with her, and she couldn't blame it; she had walked all throughout the city and was still a ways away from home.

As soon as she passed a deep, dark alley filled with garbage, she heard footsteps behind her. Two pairs. A chill rolled up her spine, a familiar feeling that happened whenever she was being followed. The sound of footsteps behind her came louder. It frightened the cat away and it fled down the street. Ever's arms clenched around the bouquet in her arms. The footsteps steadily followed, no matter what roads she turned on or how fast she walked.

Evergreen had a strong suspicion of who it was- she hoped she was wrong.

"Oh, stop, stop. Stop walking. This is  _boring_ now, girl. You know you won't shake us."

The voice immediately pulled a disgusted sweat through her skin. Stopping straight in her tracks, one hand took full control of the flowers, and the other snatched her gun out of her handbag and was pointed at the chest of a greasy, gray-skinned man. Another one, tall and lanky and painfully boring-looking, shifted in front of him with the intent to block whatever bullet came his way.

"Look what the cat dragged in," she muttered. "Ivan Dreyar."

* * *

Slang Used:

Pinch- Arrest

Left holding the bag- Blamed for something

Wiggle- Get on with something; get somewhere

 


	4. ruthless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another... really late chapter... This one is mainly to emphasis how rotten of a guy Ivan is and his penchant for taunting the Raijinshuu. I've got the next two chapters written up, so I'm hoping to be able to update more frequently, especially since it's winter break and I have time to write

Ivan’s signature sneer, familiar from the recent papers and the old days, took over his face. “I’ve been doing well, Miss Evergreen. Have you read the story in the papers about my newest award?”

Ever kept her eyes on his chest. His cheshire grin was still directly in sight, however, his jaw hanging low. “Who’d you bribe to get it?”

Ivan edged his way in front of the lackey, who slunk back without a single protest. He tossed back his head and bellowed with laughter. “Do you not think I’m capable of winning my own awards? I’ve been keeping this city safe from the likes of  _ you _ since the Prohibition started!”

“I’m not the one murdering civilians,” she sneered. “All I’m doing is getting people booze and entertainment while you make this city hell, simple as that. It isn’t doing anyone any harm, far as I know.”

Ivan made no comment towards the murder of the country’s citizens. He only tilted his head and shut his eyes with a peaceful smile. “Well, a little bird told me something different. You  _ have  _ done a lot of harm in the recent months, haven’t you, little Miss Evergreen?”

Her finger tapped anxiously on the trigger of the gun.

“Weren’t you prepared to murder a few completely innocent girls, because my idiot son told you to do so?” Ivan clicked his tongue. “Not very moral of you, girl.”

Her heart felt uncomfortably heavy in her chest. “What rat told you?” she spat.

“Just a little bird, I said.” Ivan sighed and massaged the bridge of his nose. “What a stupid girl. You never were good at listening.”

“Keep making fun of me, it’ll give me a proper reason to shoot you,” she said. “Now, turn around, act like you never saw me, and you won’t get a bullet in the heart.” Her eyes narrowed and her finger pressed harshly against the trigger. “Or maybe there’s not even one to shoot.”

Ivan pounded his fist against his chest and howled again. “Isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black, little miss!”

“At least I’m unashamed of it!”

“You won’t catch a man that way, dame. Though your chassis  _ could  _ do you a good job of getting a good fling.”

Ever’s lip curled in disgust. She nearly dropped her flowers to the ground in a pulse of rage and had an insatiable urge to pull the trigger on him. He sat there with a satisfied smirk, content with his crude remark and her visible reaction to it. The lackey behind him remained quiet, as though they were a brick wall. They definitely had the size to pass for one.

“I will shoot you,” she reminded. “And I won’t feel a single ounce of regret about it.”

“Oh, but you’d make my new friends so mad!”

Her eyes narrowed and she slightly tilted the gun away from her target. "What kinda friends?"

"Very good ones," he assured. "Massively influential as well, in their neck of the woods. Not the sort of people you’d want to mess with.”

She inhaled deeply, lightened her finger atop the trigger, and went back to tapping against the metal. “Turn around and  _ go away _ . We can both pretend like this never happened.”

Ivan clicked his tongue. “You’re just no fun, as usual. You always were a horribly bland girl: Ugly, hard, cold, stupid, and tight-lipped. It’s no wonder my son took you in off the streets. After all, birds of a feather flock together. Heard that saying?”

“Your voice is  _ so  _ annoying.”

“I hear you were just as  _ ruthless _ as him.”

The flowers were trembling in her grip. She imagined that if she gripped the gun any harder than she was, it would crack. Back then, only a few months ago, she had held the same gun the same way- ruthlessly held it up to the heads of a few innocent girls for just a few words of praise.

With only the slightest, surprisingly, tremble in her voice, Ever asked, “Are you still on that? Did you follow me all the way down here just to tell me I’m good at being bad? Good at being a bad person, just like you?”

“Of course. I just love bothering my idiot father’s  _ other  _ children. And what the four of you managed to pull off then?” The chief clapped his hands together, a disgustingly genuine look of admiration sparkling in his piggish eyes. “Marvelous. Simply  _ marvelous _ . How long did it take you to come up with that whole show? Weeks? Months?”

She didn't respond. Undoubtedly, if she turned to go now, the brutish lacky at his side would cut her off.

“Of course, you were all brutally beaten-”

Maybe she could shoot him in the foot.

“-your hearts weren’t into it-”

Eh. Maybe better not to shoot a government official in the foot. Not very good for Fairy Tail as a whole, and especially not good for her.

“-dumb kids-!”

“I’m gonna walk away now,” she warned. “I’m done with this stupid conversation. Go back to your fancy office, drink your damn fancy booze, and leave everyone  _ alone _ . Or I  _ will  _ find you, and I  _ will  _ shoot you, regardless of the consequence.”

Evergreen lowered the gun, shoved it back in her purse, then collected some stray flowers falling from the bouquet and turned on her heel. The sun was completely set now, and the shadows of the buildings around them had been swallowed. A bad time to be out and about all alone. Freed would start worrying about her soon. 

The shadowy henchman with him took a step forward after her, but Ivan waved a hand. 

“No no. Leave her be. Just one more thing, little miss.”

Ever kept walking with her face towards the moon.

“They still flinch when they see you, don’t they?”

Her heart dropped.

She kept walking.

“All those girls… Everyone in the company, in fact. They flinch when they see you, when you move suddenly, when you touch your gun, even if you raise it to protect them.”

Now her heart was pounding at a painful pace. Guilt. That was what was causing it.

“No one will ever look at you safely again. No one will ever be  _ comfortable  _ around you again. Not even your partner. That big, dark brute.” 

Her heart stopped utterly, completely, and a sweat was breaking out on her neck.

Ivan’s lip curled. “Elfman, was it? Makarov letting  _ darkies  _ like him into the company is such a dis-”

Without thinking about it, with only pure instinct, she kicked up a pebble from the ground, caught it deftly, and spun to hurl it at Ivan. He didn’t flinch; the lackey caught it in an outstretched arm when it was only an inch away from the forehead of its target. He dropped it into Ivan’s palm and went back to his position.

“I knew you cared about what he thought about you,” Ivan drawled. “Is this what love is?”

The comment went straight over her head. Blood was pulsing in her ears . The slur had completely enraged her. “You call anyone that  _ disgusting  _ name one more time, and I’ll-”

“Shoot me?” Ivan mocked. “If that’s the case, I hope you like the slammer. And I’d like for you to not throw any more pebbles at me.” He twirled the tiny stone in his fists. “Despite how  _ amusing  _ it is, that is.”

Her shoulders were shaking. Her blood was roaring. Natsu, Elfman, Cana, everyone in the company who looked different, skin or otherwise- Ivan didn’t deserve to say their names. He didn’t understand their type of suffering. And neither did she. She looked what was considered “normal”- she didn’t know. But she got mad when they were insulted. Family shared pain, as the Master proverbed.

“You can’t repent,” Ivan said simply. He dropped the pebble at his feet and kicked it back towards her. “Let that sink in, little miss.”

The pebble hit the toe of her shoe. He turned. The lackey followed in suit. Ivan waved a lazy hand back at her, much like the way Laxus did when he was leaving a room. It enraged her. There was no way Laxus had picked up that habit from his “father.” He was doing it to mock her. To get a rise.

“Tell my idiot father and son hello for me, would you? Tell them to keep business running for me.”

They disappeared down the street, melting into the shadows. Ever’s fist was still clenched, her heart was racing, and now she was feeling fuzzy. Her breath was coming in short gasps. Her throat was becoming thick and closing up. Her legs were wobbling, and everything came out of focus. There was three of everything.

_ The Battle of Fairy Tail. _

_ Levy’s face, twisted with fear. _

_ Erza swinging her fists wildly. _

_ A harsh feeling in her heart. _

_ Bickslow’s bleeding, burned face. _

_ Laxus Laxus Laxus Laxus. Don’t go. _

“Ever?”

Her train of thought shattered. Her breathing stuck in her throat, she choked a little, and she snapped her head around to find none other than Elfman.

The street was completely silent, save for the screaming of cicadas. His arms were full of grocery bags. His hair was ruffled and messy- he’d obviously been working all day, and now he was out for last minute shopping to stock up the bar for the next day. It was the daily routine.

“Ever?” he echoed. “Why’re you out here? It’s dark.” 

He studied her for another second. Her hair was still flying out of it’s hold from when she’d attempted to chase down the men she’d suspected to be Tartaros. Her dress was rumpled, covered with stray petals, and the flowers in her arms were looking a little beaten from being handled so roughly in the past hour. His eyes landed on her face, and she flinched.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he said simply.

Her tongue felt heavy and dry, but she managed to make it move so she could speak. “Ivan. He was-” Her mouth, again, became too dry to talk.

Elfman’s eyes flicked upwards- he was thinking. He balanced the groceries in his arms, kept thinking, then looked back at her. “That’s Laxus’ dad, ain’t it? Ivan Dreyar?”

If she’d had her wits about her, she would have snapped back that no, that was incorrect, Ivan was not Laxus’ father- he’d lost the privilege to be so when he’d tried to kill him, years ago. But her mind was fuzzy from the panic attack she’d almost had, and she only nodded.

“Elfman,” she muttered, maybe to warn him- she didn’t really know- but he stopped her.

“I don’t know what happened,” he said, “but it’s too dark for you to be out alone. We should get you back home.” He tilted his head. He was very visibly considering his next words. “Do you… want me to take you there? I can also carry those flowers, if you want.”

Ever set her jaw and mentally shook the last remains of her haze. “No, I’m fine. In fact,  _ you  _ should be asking  _ me  _ to carry some of those bags for you.”

The man glared at her, huffed, and, understanding that this was her way of offering her help, gave her only one bag to hold out of the total four. He led the way, walking surprisingly quiet for a person his size. She followed, holding both the bag and the flowers closely to her chest. The gun in her bag felt heavy. The photos, too.

"Massively influential," Ivan had mentioned about his "new friends."

Evergreen didn't doubt for a second that he could've been talking about Tartaros. He could’ve been talking about, and likely was, any crime group in the country. It was like Ivan to associate himself with anyone who could get him attention and cash, and the Prohibition Bureau as a whole certainly wasn’t above it either.

“Ever?”

Elfman had stopped at the end of the start of the block. The housing for the company employees and the location of the speakeasy was only a few yards away. Annoyed, Ever moved around him, but he kept his eyes down towards her legs. A bit embarrassed, she carried on. 

“Ever, wait. There’s blood on your dress.”

Startled, Ever looked down. He was right, though it wasn’t a lot- only a few speckles. She ticked through the dangerous events of that day, wondering what could’ve caused it, and settled on her shoulder roll from back during her chase a couple hours back. Her knees must have scraped on the dirt, but he wasn’t about to know that.

“I tripped earlier,” she said simply. “Over a loose piece of pavement.”

He believed her without a second thought.

“I can take a look at that for you,” he muttered, not looking at her. “I have a first-aid kit in my room.”

“It’s nighttime,” she reminded. “Scarlet won’t be too fond of a girl hanging out in the guy’s rooms.”

Elfman blushed to the roots of his snowy hair. “It’ll only be for a second! And besides, the speakeasy just opened- she won’t notice.”

“Fine. But if someone catches me in your room and tells on us, you’re taking the fall. I won’t have my reputation ruined.”

The speakeasy was in full swing. The second they opened the door, the sound of swing music invaded Ever’s ears and the colors of bright dresses almost blinded her. The golden light caught on jewelry and pocket watches, symbols of status, and their shine almost blinded her. While she was blinking into the light, Elfman grabbed her hand and opened a door that led into the storage room. He set down his own bags, then grabbed the one she had.

“I have to stock these,” he said, “and then the door over here leads out to the stairs so we can get to my room without having to go through the party out there.”

“You really don’t have to patch up my knee,” she said one more time.

“It wouldn’t be very manly to let you keep bleeding,” he responded.

“It’s probably already stopped.”

“I’ll wash it out,” he insisted, “so it won’t get infected.”

“Stop being so stubborn,” she shot back.

“You,” he retorted. “Just let someone who isn’t Freed or Bickslow or Laxus do something for you.”

“I don’t need  _ anyone  _ to do  _ anything  _ for me, thank you very much,” she responded. 

He ignored her and went to work, expertly placing cans of this and that on the shelves while she watched him. An apple was balancing on a shelf next to a pile of grapes. She reached for it, tempted in her boredom, but Elfman must have had eyes in the back of his head.

“Don’t eat that,” he snarled, and she let the apple roll out of her hand and onto the shelf again.

The party still raged outside- Cana was laughing at something right outside the storage room, and there was the sound of Lisanna calling for more bowls of olives so she could reset some tables. 

“Do you spend a lot of time back here?” she asked.

“Some,” he said back. “You know, when people are giving me looks.”

People like Ivan.

“Mira and Lisanna aren’t very dark,” she commented. “How’d that happen? You guys  _ are  _ siblings, right?”

Maybe that had crossed a boundary; he stiffened, shoved the last box onto a shelf, and grunted “yeah,” then opened the door away from the speakeasy.

_ Yikes _ .

The only person walking down the hall leading to the boy’s apartments was Natsu, and he gave them an odd look, but Elfman explained the situation (albeit a bit jerkily- he stammered and tripped over his words) and Natsu took one look at the bloody bits of Evergreen’s dress and promised to not tell Erza with a signature grin. It didn’t concern him anyhow.

“I’m worried he might yammer to Laxus, though,” she told Elfman. “I’m supposed to be down there watching the door- he’s gonna be looking for me soon, and he’s probably gonna ask Natsu when he comes in.”

“I don’t think it’ll take us that long,” Elfman assured.

Evergreen hadn’t been so deep into the men’s area before- the three conjoined rooms that Laxus and Freed and Bickslow shared were only a couple doors down from the bathrooms that divided the living quarters, so she never had to go far. It smelled rather different the deeper they went- a dark, musty smell, though not entirely unpleasant. It smelled the way Laxus did whenever he was done in the ring. That was unsurprising- a lot of the boys roughhoused over at Lily’s ring when the matches and money were good, and he always welcomed them (and Gajeel in particular) with open arms.

But Evergreen hadn’t ever seen Elfman fight at the ring, when she thought about it. A bit warily, she glanced up and down his body, worried that he might see her doing so. And, as she already knew, he had a fighter’s build: Broad shoulders, wide arms, and tight muscles. And she had seen him fight up close when she had stomped him to the curb, back in the Battle of Fairy Tail, and when Grimoire had been a threat only a few short months before and they had been partnered together.

_ So why didn’t he fight? _

Almost, just almost she asked him, but he still looked tense from her last question. She bit her tongue.

“Right here,” he muttered, sliding a key into a doorknob. “I’ll be as fast as I can.”

“You better be fast,” she told him, walking right past. “You don’t want Laxus coming to look for me.”

His room was extraordinarily  _ boring _ . The walls were painted a grayish-white, and he had nothing on them, except for a dark wooden shelf that had a total of five books. A nightstand stood next to the bed, that of which was covered with an embroidered gray blanket.

Her eyes burned just looking at it.

“Boring, much?” she exclaimed. “Is there anything fun in here-?”

She swallowed her words only a second later. The wall behind her that she had passed when she walked in was covered with pictures. Some were extraordinarily hand-drawn, others had clearly come from a camera. The vibrant colors in the penned ones lit up the entire room- the pictures ranged from people around the guild, to pictures of the city, and even more.

“What-”

“Lisanna is really talented!” Elfman said proudly. “I hang up just about everything she makes!”

“Lisanna did all of this?” she asked, leaning in to study a black-and-white photo of Laxus; it had clearly been taken while he wasn’t looking, and it captured his profile perfectly.

He was brimming with excitement. “Our father was a really good artist, and before he died, he taught Lisanna some things. She’s been building her talents up since then. She could be a professional artist one day.”

That was right. There was more waiting for Lisanna than sitting in a bar, illegally selling drinks and entertaining the entitled. There was more waiting for all of them.

“You can have a seat on the bed,” he said. “This’ll only take a couple of minutes.”

A heat rose in her cheeks, and she hoped she wasn’t bright red. Elfman had gone to the closet, was on his knees, and was rummaging around for something. While he looked for what she presumed was the first aid kit, she gingerly sat down on the bed and hiked up the skirt of her dress, placed the hem on top of her thighs, and observed her knees.

_ Horsefeathers. _

They were puffy and swollen at this point, and a tender shade of red. Some scabs were already forming, and a couple small areas, only the size of pin-heads, were still oozing beads of blood. Long and thin scratches reached down to her calves and up to almost where her hem rested on her thighs, though it appeared like they hadn’t bled heavily at all. They were superficial. Ever poked the most swollen part of her knee. It burned, and she grimaced.

Elfman’s hand appeared on her knee a second later, and he hissed, “That’s worse than I thought it would be.” Much to her pounding heart’s relief, he removed his hand and dug into the first aid box. “Easy fix, though, and I’m sure you’ve had worse.”

“You’ve no idea,” she mumbled.

Elfman pulled a cloth, disappeared briefly to wet it in the bathroom, and pressed it firmly against the much more battered knee. She shuddered at the sharp pain and squirmed a little- her knee felt so hot and the cloth was so cold that she was surprised that steam wasn’t rising up. He rubbed it gently against both knees, and the crusted blood lifted from her skin.

He cleaned her legs in silence and only spoke up to tell her that the soap he was using to clean the cuts would sting. It did, and she flinched so badly she kicked him in the leg. Surprisingly enough, he didn’t complain  _ too  _ much. He only glared at her, said something about her being stubborn and ungrateful, and began to scrub her legs a bit harder.

She eyed his hand on her knee and took note of the contrast in their skin colors. Her skin was pale and tinted pink from injury, while his was rough and a dark brown. It didn’t matter to her- the color of someone’s skin shouldn’t have mattered to anyone.

But it mattered to Ivan.

_ “Letting people like  _ him  _ into the company is-” _

“Elfman.” 

She hadn’t realized she had started talking until he looked up at her, pausing his bandaging process.

She closed her eyes and bit her lip.

“Something wrong?” he asked, and continued.

“Do people call you names?” she questioned quietly. “Bad ones? Like, customers and stuff. Do they?”

He halted again, the gauze clenched tightly in his hand, but he started wrapping her again only a second later. “Sometimes. When they’re really drunk. Master kicks out anyone who says anything about anyone’s skin color- mine or Natsu’s or whoever’s.”

“I see.” Ever only remained silent for another few seconds before she couldn’t stop the next question. “Does it bother you?”

“Sometimes. But I grew up getting called those names. I’m a bit desensitized,” he said plainly.

Evergreen hummed, tugged on her hair, and then said, “I need to tell you something. It’s important.”

She thought she saw a thin blush on his cheeks, but dismissed it.

“It’s about Ivan.” She gritted her teeth together until she felt they may break, building up her nerve for her next statement. “If you ever see him, no matter what he’s doing, you need to get away from him.”

“Why?” he asked. He was almost done patching up her knees.

“Because, people like you- people who are different in any way- he doesn’t like them. He has no qualms with harassing or brutalizing them. He gets away with it, too.”

Elfman finished and sat back on his haunches, staring at the picture-filled wall. “Sure, sure. Thanks for the warning. Now, let’s get you down to the speakeasy so you can actually do your job.”

Ever stood from the bed, a bit wobbly, and her skirts fell back down to her calves. She turned around, fluffed up the bed where she had sat to take out the her-shaped indentation, and walked to the door where Elfman was waiting. He opened it for her, she briefly thanked him, and walked out into the hallway, where-

-where Laxus was looming.

Elfman behind her blanched, and Ever took a few steps back into him, intimidated by the look in his eye.

“L-L-Laxus! I was just-”

“Goofing off?” he scowled. “Really, Ever? You have a job to do, and I find you coming out of your boyfriend’s room?”

Oh boy, did she ever want to disappear.

“It wasn’t like that, and he’s  _ not  _ my boyfriend!” she protested with a blush. Elfman was sputtering something. “He was helping me.”

Laxus hmmmmed and turned on Elfman. “I’d thank you to not distract  _ any  _ member of my security force.”

“It wasn’t what you think!” Elfman spluttered. “Her knees- I was- She was-!”

“I tripped and fell earlier while I was out,” Ever lied. “And then Elfman saw that there was blood on my dress and insisted on patching up my legs.”

The blond narrowed his eyes, took a step back, and squinted at her dress. When he indeed found spots of blood in the fabric, he leaned down, picked up her skirts just above her knees, and stared at the red-speckled gauze and scratches. He sighed and dropped her dress.

“So that was it,” he said. “In which case, thank you, Elfman. God knows this dame is too stubborn to say if anything is wrong. She probably would’ve gotten an infection, then we would’ve had to take off her leg.”

Ever glared up at him and stuck out her tongue and he sighed and put an arm around her shoulders, guiding her away and leaving Elfman, looking a bit limp-jawed and shaken- alone in the doorway to his room.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Terms Used:
> 
> Chassis- A crude term for a woman's body.  
> Horsefeathers- An expletive; kinda like saying damn.


End file.
